


The Oldest Story of All

by Morgana



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-28
Updated: 2011-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dawn learns a hard lesson and goes to her vampires for comfort</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Oldest Story of All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [love_jackianto (look_turtles)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/look_turtles/gifts).



"Fucking bastard - he's gonna wish he'd been left for a whole soddin' colony of Fyarl demons when I get through with him!"

Angel glanced over at his childe and shook his head. "You're really not helping, you know." Not that he expected him to listen; Spike had been carrying on for the better part of an hour now, showing little signs of stopping, ever since Dawn burst into his office in tears.

He wasn't that surprised that she'd come looking for Spike, but he could've been knocked over with a feather when she streaked past his childe and climbed up into his lap instead. Between Spike's demands to know what was going on and Dawn's broken sobs, he'd managed to piece the tale together. Apparently, she'd been out with her friends a few nights ago and met someone, taken him home, and spent the weekend with him, only to find an empty bed when she woke up that morning. It was probably one of the oldest stories in existence, but it was the first time it had happened to her, and she was devastated.

Spike had listened as far as 'left me' before he came unglued. He'd started with the usual obscenities and moved on from there. Angel had to admit, he was impressed by some of the things Spike had come up with - 'bilge-sucking baby goat fucker' probably had to be the best one so far. The insults had been followed by threats of what Spike intended to do to the man who had hurt his little girl, and again, Angel found himself approving the sheer creativity of some of them, albeit grudgingly.

Of course, the mention of blood and torture drew Angelus' attention, and if Angel thought his approval was bad, his unsouled demon's was far worse. Angel could feel him rattling the bars of his cage, demanding to put a few of Spike's plans into action and implement some suggestions of his own, but he did his best to quench those impulses, reminding himself that there was no reason to hunt this boy down. Dawn had gone with him willingly, she'd readily admitted that. He'd been a bastard to leave her without a word, Spike was certainly right about that, but he hadn't forced her or harmed her, merely hurt her feelings. Both Angel and Spike had done much worse in their lives.

Angel did his best to ignore Spike as he set about verbally tearing the boy who'd hurt his Bit apart, concentrating on the girl in his arms who seemed to be winding down. Wrenching sobs had given way to hiccups and soft sniffles, and he thought the worst of it might be over. Shifting her a little bit in his lap, he fished a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and passed it to her, smoothing a hand over her glossy dark hair as she wiped her eyes and nose, hugging her when she was finished.

"Better?" he asked quietly. A sniff and tiny nod answered him and he smiled, then kissed the top of her head. "Good. Now how about we go upstairs? I'm pretty sure I have some chocolate mint cookie dough ice cream in the freezer. We can get a couple of bowls and see how long it takes Spike to realize we're gone."

He was rewarded with a watery laugh and a hard hug, and he thought he could understand now why Spike was willing to move mountains for her. Most people, even the ones they called friends, were always aware of what they were, and that knowledge translated into a distance that could never quite be bridged. But not Dawn - she was as comfortable in a vampire's lap as in one of her classes. More so, probably, given how frequently he'd heard about what a slavedriver the Art History professor was.

Angel kissed her forehead and helped her up, then left Spike to his ranting and raving. His childe would catch up with them later, and hopefully between the two of them (and a shopping trip financed by his gold card), they could ease Dawn's heartache and make this whole ordeal a little less painful. It wasn't like the boy had promised her forever, after all.

Still, he promised himself, if he ever happened upon this Dean Winchester, he was going to see that they had a little talk about how to treat women in general, and one very special girl in particular.


End file.
